


1837 Hours

by thephilosophersapprentice



Series: File:SCP-1003 [2]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga, SCP Foundation
Genre: Alternate Universe - SCP Foundation, Gen, Waiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:54:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23398069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thephilosophersapprentice/pseuds/thephilosophersapprentice
Summary: Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.Agent Roy Mustang looked up from his paperwork at the teenager in the other swivel chair. The boy was staring, brow furrowed, at the far wall, as he clicked the pen in his hand.Roy cleared his throat. The boy startled, almost falling out of the chair, and straightened up, setting the pen carefully and self-consciously back on Roy’s desk, for all the world as if he had been called to the principal’s office.Roy went back to the intake report form. Several minutes of blissful quiet passed.“Excuse me, sir,” 1003-2 asked timidly. “How long is this supposed to take?”
Relationships: Alphonse Elric & Roy Mustang
Series: File:SCP-1003 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1683049
Comments: 5
Kudos: 69





	1837 Hours

The subject, tentatively designated SCP-1003-2, is under observation while the incident is investigated. Should 1003-2 be found to have been a causal factor in the incident, 1003-2 will be transferred to standard precautions for class green reality-warping entities. 1003-2’s appearance is consistent with a human male between 14 and 16 years of age, blond hair, light hazel eyes…

_Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click._

Agent Roy Mustang looked up from his paperwork at the teenager in the other swivel chair. The boy was staring, brow furrowed, at the far wall, as he clicked the pen in his hand.

Roy cleared his throat. The boy startled, almost falling out of the chair, and straightened up, setting the pen carefully and self-consciously back on Roy’s desk, for all the world as if he had been called to the principal’s office.

Roy went back to the intake report form. Several minutes of _blissful_ quiet passed.

“Excuse me, sir,” 1003-2 asked timidly. “How long is this supposed to take?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but we’re still in the preliminary stages of our investigation—”

“My name is Alphonse.”

“And we have yet to determine whether you or your brother had anything to do with it—”

“Al for short.”

It was a breach in protocol, but Roy had worked overtime every night this week and he was in no mood for any of this. “Al, then. We can’t release either of you until we know both of you had nothing to do with the appearance of the confirmed anomaly. According to the intake interview…” Roy glanced over the transcript on his desk. “You have no memory of the incident.”

Al shook his head, tow-colored bangs flopping into his eyes.

“As a result, we have to continue the interviews with your brother—”

“His name is Ed. Short for Edward.”

“—Ed. Until we can discover what actually happened.”

Al fidgeted with his hands. “It’s just… I have a test tomorrow, sir.”

The boy looked pleadingly at Roy. It was another broach in protocol to give him any information about an incomplete investigation, but… “Right now, it seems that your brother is the anomalous one, not you. If that’s so, they’ll complete processing him and you’ll be free to go.”

Al sprang to his feet. “I’m not going anywhere without Ed! Ed wouldn’t hurt _anyone_!”

“It might not be his choice,” Roy pointed out, not unkindly. “The higher the degree of disruption to local reality, the less control the reality-warper often has.”

“But he wouldn’t hurt anyone! Unless it was an accident. You can’t blame him for accidents!”

“Kid, blaming him and keeping him away from the possibility of those accidents are two very different things.” Roy said, sighing.

“But it’s not his fault!”

“I’m not here to argue with you,” Roy interrupted. “I’m here to do my job.”

The boy sat back down. “Sorry.”

**Author's Note:**

> 1837 hours--in military or 24-hour time, 6:37 pm.


End file.
